Lone Star Heiress

by Winnie Griggs

  Mitch stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll write down the problems for him.”

  “Of course. Take your time—I don’t mind waiting.”

  Trying to ignore the victory in her voice, Mitch headed to his study. As he pulled out a piece of paper, he heard voices coming from the yard. Glancing out the window, he spotted Ivy and Rufus entertaining the three boys. He watched, enjoying the uninhibited abandon with which she joined in their play.

  It was several minutes before he remembered what he’d stepped into his study to do. Turning back to his desk, he carefully wrote out the arithmetic problems. As he worked, the sound of laughter and horseplay drifted in through the window. He’d heard that same sound many a time from his classroom.

  But he’d never before been as tempted to join the participants as he was today.

  Mitch finally leaned back and studied the list of problems. Satisfied that it was complete, he returned to the parlor only to find his guest examining his things. Strange—when Ivy had done that, it hadn’t really bothered him. But the widow’s actions struck him as intrusive.

  When she looked up and spotted him, she smiled as if there was nothing to be embarrassed about. “Your home could certainly use a woman’s touch.”

  “I like to keep things simple.”

  She laughed and it was a very soft, feminine sound. Nothing like the boisterous joy of Ivy’s laugh.

  “Isn’t that just like a man?” she said archly. “But if a woman ever puts her mark in here—softer curtains, flowers, a few delicate bits of bric-a-brac—you’d wonder why you ever resisted.”

  What would she think of the wildflowers Ivy had added to his kitchen and study?

  He handed her the papers he’d brought with him. “Ask Peter to work on these and bring them back to me tomorrow.” Then he remembered tomorrow was Ivy’s day off. And he’d rather not be alone when the woman returned. “Make that the day after. And I would caution you not to help him.”

  She placed a hand over her heart. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Then she fluttered her lashes. “Besides, as I said, I have no head for numbers.”

  Did she honestly think that made her more attractive to him? “Then I’ll see you on Thursday.”

  Her nose wrinkled. “What’s that smell?” Then her eyes widened in alarm. “My goodness, is something burning?”

  Mitch sniffed the air, then turned abruptly and raced for the kitchen. He knew what had happened even before he pushed open the door. Ivy must have been distracted by the children and left something on the stove for too long.

  Sure enough, when he entered the kitchen, smoke billowed from the stove grates. Grabbing a cloth, he opened the oven door and pulled out the now blackened lump of what had undoubtedly been a loaf of bread. Wanting to get the still-smoking mess out of the house, he headed for the back door, pushing it open with his hip.

  Ivy glanced up as soon as he stepped outside. The expression on her face would have been comical if she hadn’t looked so stricken.

  He tossed the blackened mass from the pan toward the fence. Rufus rushed over to check it out, but after one good sniff, he gave a violent sneeze and bounded away again.

  Ivy approached the porch like a student caught passing notes. “I am so sorry—I lost track of time.”

  “Nothing to get distressed over. I’ve eaten meals without bread before—it won’t hurt me to do so again.”

  She clapped a hand over her mouth “Oh, my goodness, the stew!” She gathered her skirts and rushed to the back door. “I hope I haven’t ruined that, as well.”

  Mitch barely managed to get the door open for her before she raced inside. Then she halted abruptly.

  Following close behind, he caught sight of what had stopped her in her tracks.

  Hilda stood at the stove, stirring the contents of the pot, looking for all the world as if she were the lady of the house.

  “Hello, dear.” Both her tone and smile were condescending. “I hope you don’t mind. I added some water to the pot to keep it from burning.” She tapped the spoon on the rim of the pot before setting it on the spoon rest. “I think I got to it just in time. And I hope you don’t mind but I also added a pinch of salt and rosemary to it. It was rather bland, and a worldly man like Mr. Parker surely likes flavor in his food.”

  “Thank you,” Ivy said evenly, “but I’ll take over now.”

  “Of course. I was just trying to help.” Her smile took on a feline quality. “You seem to have been otherwise occupied.”

  Mitch sensed Ivy’s stiffening and quickly stepped forward. “I’ll see you and Peter on Thursday, then.”

  Mrs. Swenson turned to Ivy. “I’m sorry if my boys distracted you, my dear. When you’re a mother yourself someday, you’ll learn how to manage both a home and children.”

  Mitch took the woman’s elbow and ushered her from the room before Ivy could respond. “Allow me to escort you to the door. I’m certain your sons are eager to reclaim your attention.”

  By the time Mitch returned, Ivy stood at the sink, scrubbing the blackened bread pan with great determination. She paused a moment to glance his way. “I’m truly sorry.”

  “You don’t have to keep apologizing. As I said, it’s really nothing to concern yourself over. I’ve burned more than one meal myself.” He tried to shift the focus to something more positive. “You seemed to enjoy entertaining those boys.”

  Her expression softened. “I did. They came to the kitchen door and asked if it was okay to play with Rufus. I told them yes, but then Davey, the youngest, seemed a little afraid, so I went out to put them at ease. I’d only meant to be a minute, but then Davey asked me to push him on the swing.

  “They’re good boys,” she continued as she returned to her scrubbing. “A little too quiet for young’uns, but they relaxed after a bit. Andy, the middle boy, really took to Rufus. They don’t have a dog of their own, but it sure sounded as if they’d like to have one.”

  She’d make a good mother someday, he decided. A sudden image of her with a babe in her arms and a toddler at her feet flashed through his mind with the clarity of one of his sketches. The sweet tenderness of it nearly took his breath away.

  “I’m not off to a very good start, am I?”

  It took him a minute to focus on her meaning. “I wouldn’t say that.”

  “You’re kind, but yesterday I fed you a cold lunch and today I burned the bread to a charred lump.”

  He didn’t like the defeat in her eyes. “Look at it this way—it hasn’t been boring.” He’d meant that as a bit of levity, but he realized it was true. His life had been turned upside down since she entered it, but he hadn’t felt so alive in a very long time.

  “I hope my negligence didn’t spoil your visit with Mrs. Swenson.”

  There was a note in her voice he couldn’t quite read. “It wasn’t a social call. Her oldest son needs some tutoring.”

  “Peter? He seems to be a very serious youngster. Maybe a mite too serious.”

  “You could tell that from a few minutes of play?”

  She shrugged. “I could see how dutifully he watched over his brothers, and how he didn’t let himself relax and just have fun.”

  “That’s typical of the oldest child in a family. I see it in my students.”

  She eyed him thoughtfully. “You said you’re the oldest.”

  Was she trying to draw comparisons? “Yes. And I did keep an eye on my sisters. But Peter has the added burden of being the man of the house now that his father is gone.”

  “How long ago did his father pass?”

  “About a year and a half ago.”

  She dried her hands on her apron and moved to the stove. “Those poor boys. It must be hard on them not having a father in their lives.”

  “They’ll manage, as others have. And there are good
men in this community to serve as role models for the boys until she marries again.”

  She smiled. “Good men, like a certain schoolteacher I happen to know.”

  Mitch paused, unsure how to respond as feelings he couldn’t quite identify washed over him.

  She considered him a good man?

  * * *

  Ivy had been doing her best not to dwell on the poor showing she’d made in front of Mrs. Swenson.

  She did have her pride, after all. But more than that, she couldn’t bear the idea of letting Mitch down. And right now he looked slightly dazed. What was he thinking? She wished he would say something. But he just continued to stare at her in that unnerving way.

  Trying to cover the silence, she said the first thing that came to mind, “Do you plan to help him? Peter, I mean.”

  He finally relaxed his gaze and rubbed his chin. “I’ll help, yes, but I haven’t yet decided quite how. I gave his mother a test for him that will let me know the extent of his need. Once I look over the results, I’ll decide.”

  Relieved that their discussion was back on safer ground, Ivy nodded. “I suppose that means she’ll be returning here. Do you know when?” She was eager to snatch at this chance for domestic redemption. “I want to be prepared with refreshments next time.”

  “That’s not nec—”

  “It’s absolutely necessary. When you have visitors in this home, it’s my job to help you be prepared to welcome them properly.”

  And that woman would not find her lacking again. She refrained from examining too closely why Mrs. Swenson in particular could get her back up this way.

  “Then yes, I expect her to return on Thursday, but we didn’t discuss a time.”

  Ivy waved that minor obstacle aside. “No matter. I’ll just prepare something that keeps well.”

  “If it’s important to you, then by all means do so.”

  Ivy hesitated a moment, then decided to say what was on her mind. “Mrs. Swenson seems quite smitten with you.”

  Mitch frowned uncomfortably. “I believe smitten is too strong a word.”

  Ivy didn’t agree. But perhaps he was still mourning his late wife too much to see anyone else in that light. “You must have loved her very much.”

  His surprised look brought heat to her cheeks. She hadn’t intended to say that aloud. “Your wife, I mean,” she added hastily. “Not Mrs. Swenson.”

  “Gretchen was a sweet, gentle woman who deserved better than me.”

  “I doubt she thought so.”

  “Nevertheless,” he said, his tone relentlessly firm, “that was it for me. I don’t plan to ever marry again.”

  Ivy felt as if she’d been slapped. She’d always known, of course, that any kind of permanent relationship with Mitch was out of the question, that after her case with Carter was settled she’d likely never see him again.

  But just because her head knew that didn’t mean her heart had accepted it.

  “You shouldn’t slam the door on the possibility. I mean, you never know wh—”

  “That may be true for others, but my situation is different. I stand by my statement, and now I’d prefer we move on to another topic.”

  Ivy went back to work preparing a meal from scratch. He must have loved his wife deeply to refuse to marry another.

  Surely she wasn’t jealous of a dead woman?

  Trying to move past her own reaction, Ivy realized she’d obviously touched a very raw nerve with Mitch, but it had been illuminating. He was even more stubbornly closed off than she’d imagined. And that was no way for a person to live.

  She was more determined than ever to open his eyes. Now if she could just figure out how...

  * * *

  Mitch had seen the hurt look Ivy tried to mask before she turned away and felt a pang of regret for putting it there. But he knew he’d done the right thing. Now there would be no misunderstanding. If she had in fact formed any sort of affection for him, she was now aware that it could lead no further than friendship.

  And if that thought left a sour feeling in his gut, well, it was just what he deserved.

  She was quieter than usual as she worked at the stove. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she refused to sit down to the meal with him, but to his relief that wasn’t the case. But all through the meal he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was studying him, but to what end he couldn’t imagine.

  He also found himself missing her cheerful chatter. Even the leading questions that normally started her talking failed to elicit more than direct responses.

  When had her babble become so dear to him?

  And what was he going to do when she returned to Nettles Gap for good?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ivy rose early Wednesday morning. She wanted to get started on her laundry duties before the hottest part of the day.

  Doing the laundry for herself and Mrs. Pierce wasn’t much more work than doing it for herself and Nana Dovie. Mrs. Pierce’s clothing was of a finer quality, but surprisingly worn. Perhaps she wanted to cling to her mourning clothes as long as possible.

  As Ivy worked, her mind kept replaying yesterday’s conversation with Mitch. She couldn’t believe such a man could feel truly fulfilled leading a solitary life. Surely, in time, he’d find a woman who could bring him joy again.

  But it obviously wouldn’t be her. Still, she couldn’t let that stop her from her self-appointed mission to help him. It was the right thing to do.

  No matter how much it hurt.

  When she’d hung the final load on the line, it was nearly noon.

  It would be a while before the laundry was dry enough for her to take down. Perhaps she’d head over to Mitch’s place. Just to see if he needed anything. And to check on Rufus, of course. She went to the back porch, then hesitated. She could see Mitch through the screen door. He was seated at the table, sketch pad spread out. Would he welcome her presence or was he savoring his solitude?

  He looked up then, taking the decision from her hands.

  She was gratified to see his smile of greeting. “Well, hello. Come on in.”

  “Actually, I’m just taking a break while I wait for the wash to dry. I thought I’d see if the garden needed watering and maybe give Rufus a walk.”

  Why did she suddenly feel so shy?

  To cover her nervousness, she sat on the porch steps to greet an exuberant Rufus. A moment later, Mitch joined her outside, leaning against the nearby porch support. “I watered the garden earlier. And you should be enjoying your day off, not looking for additional chores to do.”

  She leaned back to avoid more of Rufus’s slobbery kisses. “I don’t really consider gardening and taking a stroll with Rufus doing chores.”

  “Have you eaten lunch yet?”

  “I’ll get something a little later.” She was certain she could find something edible on her walk with Rufus. And she was still hoarding a bit of the hardtack he’d given her a few days ago.

  “I was about to head over to The Blue Bottle to speak with Chance. Why don’t you join me? I’m sure Eve would be glad to see you.”

  “That’s really not necessary. I’ll need to get back to check on the laundry in a little bit.” She took a deep breath. “Actually, I had another reason for coming.”

  “Oh?”

  “I wanted to apologize for yesterday. I overstepped with my comments about Mrs. Swenson and about your wife.”

  His expression closed off and he was silent for a long moment. Then he straightened. “I insist you accompany me for lunch. We need to discuss your duties.”

  Ivy was confused. That was it? He wasn’t going to acknowledge her apology? Then his words registered. Was he unhappy with her work? Or had her prying questions yesterday brought on his dissatisfaction? Or was it a combination
of both? “Of course.”

  As they strolled toward The Blue Bottle, Ivy kept waiting for Mitch to speak up on whatever he wanted to discuss with her, but instead he seemed more interested in learning how her morning had gone.

  By the time they reached their destination she realized she’d done most of the talking.

  Mitch held the door as she stepped inside. She was very careful not to brush against him as she passed, but even so his closeness was highly distracting. It was getting harder and harder to deny her feelings.

  Eve was transferring chocolate treats from a tray to a display stand on the counter. Chance sat at a workbench across the room, painting a wooden train.

  “Mitch, Ivy—welcome!” Eve set the tray down and wiped her hands in the folds of her apron. “Can I interest you in something sweet?”

  Mitch nodded a greeting. “Everything smells so good. Why don’t you fix us a cup of whatever tea you have today, along with some of those fancy sandwiches you make.”

  Eve’s brows lifted in surprise, but she recovered quickly. “Of course.”

  Then she turned to Ivy. “Just have a seat and I’ll bring that right out.”

  Based on Eve’s reaction to Mitch’s request, Ivy gathered he didn’t normally order tea and sandwiches. Was he doing all this for her benefit? And when was he going to let her know what he wanted to discuss with her?

  As Ivy took her seat, she noticed Mitch and Chance deep in discussion. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but from the hand gestures Mitch was making, it appeared he was describing something he wanted Chance to build.

  As she watched, she couldn’t help but compare the two men. Chance was boyishly handsome with a ready smile and deep blue eyes. He always seemed relaxed and ready to enjoy whatever life tossed his way.

  On the other hand, there was nothing boyish about Mitch. He was mature, impressive, solid. He exuded responsibility and dependability. There was something so admirable, so attractive in the quiet strength that was a natural part of him, and the control and grace with which he wielded that strength.